


Mocking smile

by imera



Series: 5 lyrics - Draco/Luna [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Implied Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:54:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imera/pseuds/imera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco is in charge of bringing her food, his task doesn’t please him, especially since she acts like no other prisoner he’d met before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mocking smile

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt at the [5lyrics](http://5lyrics.livejournal.com/) community
> 
> You're on my mind all of the time  
> I really shouldn't stay with you tonight  
> But he more and more I think of it  
> The more it just seems right  
> That's why I shouldn't be  
> Here tonight  
> Don't be a Stranger - Dina Carroll

It all began with a smile on the first day Draco was assigned to bring her food. She smiled at him as she accepted the tray with food. Draco thought it was strange and wondered if his aunt had tortured the girl and she lost her mind.

The next time he brought her food she smiled again, this time her smile provoked him. “Stop smiling at me, traitor,” he hissed before marching up the stairs.

She never did stop. Draco thought that maybe if he asked his father nicely, someone else could bring her food, but no matter how much he begged, his father refused to listen.

“Why do you smile so much?” he asked almost a month later.

“Because you look like you need a smile,” she replied, staring at him with her big eyes.

“I don’t need your pity,” he barked before leaving the dungeon.

The next day he avoided looking at her, but he could feel her smile. “Stop smiling,” he said. “You’re pathetic,” he finished before leaving the dungeon.

 _He_ was pathetic, Draco thought to himself when he was alone in his room. Not only wasn’t he able to make her stop smiling, but every time he tried to stop her, he sounded like a child.

That day didn’t become any better. The Dark Lord held a meeting, which didn’t end nicely for Draco and his family. After being yelled at and threatened by the Dark Lord, Draco was in need of some kindness, or make someone else feel as bad as he felt right then. Slowly he walked down the stairs that lead to the dungeon, thinking he could use the girl as a target. The first thing he noticed was that she lay with her back against him, probably sleeping, and while he could easily wake her up, he decided to return to his room.

“Did you come here yesterday evening?” she asked the next day when he brought her food.

Draco stared at her, cursing himself for being caught, especially when he thought she was sleeping. Instead of answering he simply ignored her and left the dungeon, at least he wouldn’t make a fool out of himself with a childish answer.

It took some time before Draco dared to look her in the eyes again, he afraid she might make fun of him, but she never said a word about that night, and things returned to normal.

No matter what happened, she never stopped smiling. A few times he almost returned the smile, but caught himself before he could do it. He wanted to smile, even if it was to her, but every time he showed any sign of happiness, something bad happened.

Even if he didn’t return the smile, something bad happened. The Dark Lord was not pleased with his Death Eaters, and decided to use Draco as an example, Cruciating him until Draco cried like a baby.

When the Death Eaters left and his family were the only ones left, Draco thought about heading to his room, but changed his mind and went a place where he knew someone would show him kindness, someone who wasn’t his own blood.

The girl sat on her bed as he slowly walked down the stairs, staring at him with those big eyes. He didn’t know what to say, and almost left the dungeon.

“Did anything happen?” she asked. He heard how worried she was, and wondered if she knew just what happened to him that day.

“No,” Draco lied.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she continued like she hadn’t heard his reply. She meant well, he knew that, but it didn’t make it any easier for him.

Annoyed that she could see when something was wrong, he turned around and was prepared to leave the dungeon.

“Don’t go,” she called out. Normally Draco would ignore requests once his mind was made up, but this time he stopped. He stared at the stairs, his escape, but wasn’t able to move.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said.

“If you want we can sit in silence,” she offered. As ridiculous as the suggestion was, Draco turned around and fetched a chair, sitting down in front of her cell.

He didn’t know how long they sat like that , but he never expected himself to be the one who broke the silence. “Do you think things will be better?” he asked.

She stared at him, her grey eyes strangely comforting him. “Eventually, yes.” Her answer ended with a smile, the same smile she gave him when he brought her good.

“How can you say that when you’re locked here? What if the Dark Lord decides to make an example out of you? What if my aunt decides to pay you a visit?” He shivered by the thought of his aunt and her idea of _justice_. He would never say it out loud, but he feared his aunt’s punishments more than he feared the Dark Lord’s, at least he knew when to stop.

“If that happens then I might not have a happy future, but others might, especially if Harry defeat his enemy.”

“And how can you be sure he will? What if he’s already dead but we don’t know it yet? Nobody has seen him in months.” As much as he disliked Potter at school, mostly because Potter declined his hand of friendship in favour of the ginger, he still hoped he was out there, alive.

“We just have to believe everything will end well.” Her answer was short, and gave him no satisfaction. 

Not wanting to waste more time with her, and her positive ideas, he left the dungeon without another word spoken between them.

The next few days passed as normal, he brought her food, she smiled, and he left. Then his father was punished for failing a small task, which made things even more difficult for Draco’s family. Draco and his mother weren’t punished, but that didn’t mean they were not affected by his father’s pain.

When they were released from the Dark Lord’s presence, Draco walked down to the dungeon, wanting to see the girl. “What will you do if you were released today?” Draco asked while standing in the middle of the stairs.

She was slightly startled by his presence, but quickly gave her answer. “I would find my father.”

Draco couldn’t help snorting at her answer. “Do you two have a good relationship?”

“Yes,” she replied quickly.

Knowing she had a good relationship with her father hurt, especially because his own father yelled at his own son because he tried to help him after he was tortured. Draco tried his best to ignore his father’s harsh words, but it still pained him knowing that his father hated him, his only son.

He wanted to leave the dungeon since she couldn’t possibly understand his suffering, to have a father who hated his only child. He wanted to say one last thing that he was sure would destroy her good mood, but all he said was _good night_.

When he was back in his room he wondered why he was so weak, why he couldn’t bring himself to call her nasty words most people wanted to curse him for. He used to think of it as a weakness, that he allowed people who clearly were beneath him to feel like equals, but the war has changed him.

That night he couldn’t sleep, maybe because of his father, or maybe because of the uncertainties of the war. He looked at the clock and realised it was three in the morning. “Come on, stop thinking,” he told himself. An hour later things were still the same, he was still rolling in his bed, thinking about the war and his family, and about their prisoner.

Draco didn’t know why, but lately he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He wanted to see her, to hear her speak, to see her smile; it was like an obsession. He tried to push her out of his mind, but continuously failed. To make things even worse, she began to haunt his dreams, offer him things like freedom, and friendship, thinks he didn’t take as granted anymore.

Giving up on getting any sleep that night, he dressed himself and went down to the dungeon.

It didn’t surprise him that she was sleeping, it was the middle of the night after all. He found the same chair he used before and sat down close to her cell. He stared at her face, strands of her golden hair softly caressing her skin, even as she slept she managed to make him feel better.

Being near her calmed him, until his mind started drifting off, carrying him far away to a land where there was no Dark Lord.

The next time he opened his eyes it was morning. Draco grabbed his sore neck, sleeping on a chair was not pleasant at all. When he looked around the room he realised the girl was no longer sleeping.

“Good morning,” she said with a smile on her lips. If she was anyone else he might think she was mocking him, but her smile was always genuine, as was her kindness.

“Good morning,” he replied. He didn’t consider being caught by her sleeping next to her cell as a good morning, but it was better than being caught by a Death Eater.

When he was proper again, he tried to act as if he hadn’t come down in the middle of the night and fell asleep on a chair. Like always, she didn’t seem to think it was strange, she accepted even her own position as a war prisoner.

“Did something happen?” she asked.

“Why do you assume every time I come here it’s because something happened?” he snapped back, defending himself. She didn’t reply, which almost increased his anger, until he reminded himself that she was not like everybody else. “Forgive me, I had a long and tiresome night.” He rarely apologised, and never to someone who weren’t really worth anything, but she was different, and in a strange way, he cared for her.

“I forgive you,” she said with the smile that he had learned to like and appreciate.

Draco continued to stare, not sure what to do next. Leaving the dungeon was tempting, but so was speaking to her. “I don’t know if I can go on living like this,” he admitted, feeling weak.

She offered her hand through the bars, without thinking he accepted. “You have a lot of grief, but you will survive, you will be standing when the dark side is falling.”

“And then the ministry will come after me, imprisoning me because I’m to blame for Dumbledore’s death, and because I’m a Death Eater, and because I didn’t free you even if I could.” He tried to pull his hand away, but she wouldn’t release him.

“You’ve been kind to me-”

“What does that help? What’s being nice to one person when I’m the reason for someone else's death? They won’t forgive me.”

She cut him off by pulling him towards her. The bars stopped them from hugging, but she tried her best. For a second he wanted pull himself away from her, he didn’t deserve her kindness, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t end the hug.

“One day you’ll do something that will help the light side, something that seems small, but can be the only thing between life and death.”

“I doubt it,” he said, feeling the tears of defeat pushing against his eyelids, threatening to make him look even weaker. Slowly he placed his hands around her waist, pulling her closer, if possible. The cold bars painfully pushing against his cheekbone.

The last words she said were the words he wanted his father to say, but never did. “I believe in you,” she whispered. No matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t able to hold back his tears. She continued to whisper kind words into his ear while he sobbed.

Eventually he managed to pull himself together and bring her breakfast. He wanted to stay with her, to confess his sins, to get her acceptance, but he was called away by the Dark Lord.

A few weeks later her prophesy came true, he saved Harry Potter. When he saw the boy with the deformed face he knew at once who it was, and could easily confirm it, but he did everything in his power to avoid it. It wasn’t only because of his doing of course, if his aunt hadn’t decided to torture Granger, Potter and his friends might not have escaped as they did.

The only thing Draco regretted once they were gone, was that she was no longer in the dungeon, and that he would most likely never see her smile again, especially not if someone found out he knew all along that Harry Potter was right in front of him.

Maybe it was for the best, he saved Potter, giving him a new chance to beat the Dark Lord. And maybe, if they all survived, Potter would help him.


End file.
